Friday, April 1, 2011

Gods, Like Men

Many, many memories have died and many futures shed their blood
throughout this war for the present,
this desperate whites-of-the-eyes campaign against the past
and all that it could lead to.

I am so tired, emblematic of my generation,
my generation emblematic of my race;
but I could escape.

I could know the hidden tunnel and the refugees,
I could know the touch of sunlight through the ash like clouds,
the clouds like gods displeased and looming,
the gods like those they condemn, the gods like men:
frail hands stained with blood they do not think their own.

1 comment:

  1. "I am so tired"
    It doesn't matter what you're saying this about, you're saying it, and it's true, and so, so many people relate to those words. It's amazing how the simplest phrase can be the one with the sharpest point.
    I feel tired all the time. Physically, mentally, emotionally. What could be more exhausting than knowing the constant challenges, decisions, and responsibilities of life will not only continue as long as we live, but keep increasing in their importance, impact, and consequences?
    I want to be warring for the present. Fighting to really live and appreciate the present with a dream of the future in my mind and happy memories and lessons learned from the past.
    If you "could" know the touch of sunlight, then why wouldn't you?